


Dumb Shit Wannabe Knights Do

by TheVoidLooksBack



Series: Salt Scented Memories [2]
Category: The Witch’s Servant and the Demon Lord’s Horns | Majo no Geboku to Maou no Tsuno, 魔女の下僕と魔王のツノ | Majo no Geboku to Maou no Tsuno | The Witch's Servant and the Demon Lord's Horns
Genre: (Or atleast thats the vibe I'm going for), (or so Sauro thinks- but thats another story), Angst, But theyll babysit the young ones, Demonic Possession, Demons, Enemies to Friends, Exams, F/M, Field Trip, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Follow Sauro as he tumbles head over heels down the path of falling in love, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Horses, Humor, M/M, Mildly Graphic Violence, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Monsters, Moonblossom and Soothsayer have their own things going on, Oblivious Dork in Love, Religion Fucks Over Everyone Again, Spicy chocolate lava cake, Star-crossed, Sweet cinnamon roll and, Witch Hunts, Witches, both kinda charred, but that's ok, they will survive this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVoidLooksBack/pseuds/TheVoidLooksBack
Summary: (a.k.a.: 5 Times Sauro Nearly Died)The misadventures of a wannabe knight and his best friend, the valiant blacksmith in-training
Relationships: Arsenio Gracia-Balderas & Sauro, Sauro/Original Female Characters
Series: Salt Scented Memories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062911
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Sun Glitter

The high cry of a girl came from an alleyway, but the crowds of Espania’s Corda marketplace passed on, resolute. Sauro watched as the one or two souls who had ducked into the alleyway, emerged paler and left in great haste. Even the shutters to the windows overlooking the area were shut tight. 

Sauro frowned. No Tonokoist worth their salt would leave those in need. But was it worth it to get involved? Surely the soldiers that patrollee the marketplace would do something?

Still mulling it over, Sauro tossed his apple core into the street and headed to the mouth of the alleyway. Inside there were three men crowding two girls up against a wall. ‘ _ Well that explains it’ _ , Sauro thought as the wind unfurled the  Tonokoist emblems embroidered onto their cloaks, so new that Sauro could still smell the dye used, ‘ _ no one sane would willingly attract the attention of one of these scumbag knights. Even if it was to rescue someone.’ _

They were scum, the kind of people who became knights, not through their own abilities but because of their family name and money. The kind of people who broke their vows to protect the vulnerable, to treat women and children with respect and honor befitting of the chivalrous- the vows that true knights upheld. That was what every knight should aspire to be, yet these monsters in men’s clothes chose to be everything true knights stood against.

He  _ abhorred _ them. 

One of the knights punched the other girl in the face, her spectacles falling to the ground in splinters, and the same voice cried out. He had thought it was from fear, but upon seeing her face, Sauro knew better. It came from a girl, maybe a few years older then Sauro, who looked like the embodiment of the desert sun. Her skin glowed with a dark vibrancy, only countered by the amber that glowed within her eyes. Her hair was light, like the sun breaking through on a cloudy day, gleaming against the vibrant clothes she wore. And like the desert sun, she was unforgiving.

“Oh come on, pretty girl, why don’t you come have some fun with us?” One of the knights grabbed the long haired girl’s arm.  The long haired girl wrenched herself out of the knight’s grip, her split skirts flashing in a vibrant swirl of orange, amethyst, and cream before wedging herself tighter against the hunched over girl’s side.

_ ‘Pretty?’ _ , Sauro thought stupefied, ‘ _ she’s not  _ just _ pretty.’ _

“Di-didn’t you hear her the first time? She said no.”

Sauro took note as the short haired girl with the broken spectacles looked up from under long lashes. If the long haired girl was the sun, she was the sea: a pretty sea green that dragged the unwitting under, forever lost in their depths. Flames shone from within tempestuous eyes, a trail of blood dripping down her chin. Her voice was husky, deeper than most girls her age, but Sauro couldn’t help but find himself ensnared by her dulcet melody. 

She spat, a glob of dark fluid landing at the knight’s feet, before wiping her bloody mouth against her shirt sleeve, eyes unwavering beneath the swelling. Decision made, Sauro sauntered into the alleyway, intent on the knights even as he made his way over to a large crate stacked with loose boards.

“You seem to have a death sentence, boy”, the largest knight growled.

_ Boy? _ Sauro raised an eyebrow.  _ That slight thing? They looked like they could fall over any second.  _ The person staggered upright, their apron skirt lifting to reveal toned calves clad in loose harem style pants. Their apron was dark leather, not of any kind of cloth he had seen people usually wear. He frowned, as he clambered to the top of the crate, soundless like a cat. The long haired girl was dressed in fine linen, her skirts slit to just above the knees in the customary fashion of merchants, and was unaccompanied by guards save for the younger person dressed in clothes characteristic of crafters. 

_ Huh. _

“The Knight’s Guild doesn’t take kindly to those who flaunt their vows and neither does the Merchant’s”, Sauro said from where he balanced atop the crate’s rim. The biggest of the group, the one who had grabbed the girl’s arm, turned with a snarl, only to be met full force in the face from the board Sauro held. 

“So it seems you are the ones who have a death wish”, he finished, outwardly calm. On the inside he was screaming, a jumble of nerves and adrenaline, as the knight dropped like a sack of stones. The other two knights, a burly bruiser and a thin and tall stick of a man turned to him. Sauro gripped the board tightly in front of him with sweaty hands, carefully watching as they began to move forward.

“That’s debatable, seeing as out of the three of us”, the tall stick man said, “you’re the one armed with a stick”.

The bruiser laughed as they reached for their swords.

He couldn’t take them both on. They were too large and Sauro, in the tight clutches of a growth spurt, too gangly and small. Odds were, he would be beaten up to a pulp while the others got away. But at least they would have a chance to get away. Sauro grit his teeth in a sad mockery of a grin, bracing himself against his inevitable beating. Relaxing his knees and balancing on the balls of his feet, he brought himself into a sword position he had often seen the sword masters do at the academy. If all else failed, he could use his flames to create a distraction and get away. 

‘ _ They may kill him for it, but God couldn’t fault him for protecting the weaker and vulnerable’ _ , he thought grimly.

He was saved from the trouble of dueling the two, as they dropped to the ground with a sharp cry and a gurgling moan. 

“Let’s go!”, the long haired girl grabbed the green eyed person’s glasses and ran, her hand tightly clutching the other’s hand. Sauro jumped down, quickly racing after them. They weaved around pedestrians and stalls and horses alike, putting as much distance as they could between them and the alleyway. All the while, the sea green eyed person clutched a small but solid hammer, the kind Sauro had once seen in a blacksmith’s shop. The tall thin one had rolled about, Sauro recalled, clutching his balls, whilst the bruiser was out cold. 

With a snap, realization hit Sauro, causing him to stumble.

“You-you hit them in the balls.  _ You hit them in the balls?? With a hammer?? _ ” he exclaimed, as they ran down a road lined with wellbuilt walled courtyards.

“No!”, the girl looked pained, as she pulled them through a gate into a courtyard lined with tastefully pruned trees that cast pleasant shade on the even cobblestone paving. 

“Yes”, the short haired person said, sea green eyes glittering beneath the swelling. 

Sauro never knew someone who looked so soft and frail could be so fierce and determined. Yet even with how strongly they reminded him of the sea, Sauro thought wryly, he should’ve known better than to assume he knew all there was.

The long haired girl gave a strangled cry. “Don’t say that-! Just, just wait here”, she said, amber eyes large in a face pinched with stress. She ran towards a large building lined with neatly trimmed shrubbery in the center of the yard.

_ Huh. _

Sauro nodded in approval. “They deserved it.”

The boy, for surely he was a boy, smiled. It was delightfully cheerful, and mischievous, and  _ warm _ , and Sauro couldn’t help but want to know  _ more _ .

“I’m Sauro,” he held out a hand “Future knight.”

“Arsenio. Uh, future blacksmith- like my dad”, shaking Sauro’s hand with a gentle calloused hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise!” Sauro grinned, taking in their surroundings. 

The buildings that bordered the courtyard were elegantly understated with creamy stucco, high arches, and russet red tiled roofs. Sauro could taste the orange trees and earthen clay baking under the afternoon sun, and somewhere within the compound, he could hear a voice rise in a nostalgic song. He sighed, suddenly overcome. “You’ve got a nice place.” 

Arsenio blinked. “I don’t live here. I think that girl does.”

Sauro blinked back. 

“...You think? Wait, you don’t know her?”

“No… Should I?”

“Shou-?! Arsenio, if you didn’t know her, why were you helping her?”

“She needed help”, Arsenio frowned, looking perplexed. “Isn’t that why you helped?”

Sauro laughed. 


	2. Knightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day arrives and he's split between staying or leaving

“...67, 289, 412!”

Sauro felt his heart swell with a nervewracking sludge of apprehension and anxiety, as another dejected applicant jostled past him. It had only been twelve minutes, and yet he had seen no less than twenty people turn away with the characteristic slump of the failed. It wasn’t always a slump of the shoulders, or even a hanging head, or a consoling pat on a rigid back. It could be the gleam of a too bright smile, or the roving gaze that never rested long enough to maintain eye contact, but somehow, everyone here knew the failed when they saw them. Sauro shuddered, fixing his eyes back on the board, studiously ignoring the sigh of the next person who failed. He could not-  _ would not  _ join their ranks.

He scanned the board for his number once again even as he dreaded the results. He had been dreaming of this day, had been dreaming of it since before he had ended up in the orphanage- though lately they were more like nightmares. Failing the Knight’s Academy entrance exam was not an option. It was only the first hurdle in a long line to attaining his dream: a knighthood. A Tonokoist knight. To be one was the highest of honors- they were of the chosen few; the light in the dark, the protectors of humankind who could wield magic to purify and absolve witches, demons, and other monsters of their sins. To wear that all encompassing black emblem on his cloak, have adventures, and meet the many, many adoring women-  _ he couldn’t wait! _ But the adoring women, the marvelous adventures- would all be a butterfly’s dream unless he passed all the segments- and Sauro was  _ positive _ he messed up the theology written component. Thinking back, he also didn’t feel too great about the oral either….

Sauro’s hand tightened where it lay on Arsenio’s shoulder, the wiry muscle betraying his calm facade as it trembled with nerves. Or maybe Sauro was shaking so hard that Arsenio was as well. With a groan, Sauro buried his head in the shorter boy’s shoulder. 

“Arsenio, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Then do it somewhere it won’t land on me”, he brusquely said, belying the gentle manner in which he patted Sauro’s head, a solid grounding weight.

“Just tell me if I passed. Please?”

Like the best friend that he was, Arsenio had come with him to the Knight Academy Exam Board. For as long as anyone could remember, it was called the ‘Saint Keeper’- the one who gave the final official verdict whether an applicant was worthy to pass through the Knight Academy’s ‘Pearly Gates’ with pride, or if they would be turned away in shame, barred entry to the most prestigious knight school in Espania. However, Sauro suspected that Arsenio hadn’t come to ogle at the academy’s massive campus, nor the famous doors made of pale wood so opalescent it might have been nacre, but rather to sweep the broken remains of his soul back into his body once he discovered he failed.

Arsenio sighed.

‘ _ Oh God, I failed didn’t I? _ ’, Sauro thought atop unsteady legs, his vision obscured by Arsenio’s dark fluffy hair. 

“Sauro”, Arsenio gently whispered. 

_ Oh lord no. _ His heart painfully lurched. 

“Sauro, look!”, he twisted in his hold, broad grin illuminating his eyes like the sea in the afternoon. “You passed!!”

Sauro’s vision blurred, the ground falling away. “I what?”

Arsenio pointed near the bottom of the fourth column. ‘54’ was neatly scrawled in black ink. 

“I… I passed”, Sauro shook Arsenio with exuberance, “I fuckin’ passed!!”

Feeling absolutely giddy and laughing like a maniac, Sauro pulled Arsenio into a hug, twirling around in a circle. He could feel Arsenio’s laughter vibrating through him, hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders as onlookers called congratulations.

“Sauro! Put me down!”

_ He was going to become a knight! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, this is probably ooc, but like, i just wanted some fluffy times with the bois  
> Is that too much to ask?


	3. Komorebi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sauro's gifts can... sometimes miss the mark.

“I swear if you don’t stop, I’ll turn around and go home right now.”

Sauro twisted in his saddle. Arsenio frowned at him as he shook orange peels from his clothing to the forest floor. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just that the scent is so sweet…. Forgive me?” Sauro tilted his head, offering half the peeled orange to him as Moonblossom, Arsenio’s horse, drew alongside him and Soothsayer. 

Arsenio looked away, hands clenched tight around the reins.

“Fine”, he sighed, carefully leaning over to get his half. 

Sauro bit into a sliver of orange, disguising his grin as sweet citrus bursted on his tongue. As often as he got mad and as serious as he was, his best friend was so easy to please. He found the good in people, even if they themselves weren’t sure of it’s existence. Others had often remarked on how unusual it was for them to be friends as close as they were- Sauro wasn’t sure either of them knew why themselves - but Sauro suspected they were only so strong as they were together because Arsenio was just that  _ good _ . Even Sauro had to admit that it would have to take a saint to forgive him as often as Arsenio had. From mutilated swords, to keeping him up late, they stayed friends regardless of the bumps in the road of life- and boy, were there many. It may take a long time- he may never in fact succeed completely, but Sauro had promised himself that he would repay Arsenio for his kindness in some manner. Even if it was simply an opportunity to take him outside the city walls. 

It was kind of a mixed bag, travelling outside the walls. Despite how beautiful the scenery was, not many people leisurely traveled due to the monsters that lurked in dark corners and the magic that could ensnare you in even the brightest of places. The only ones who frequented the main roads were the armoured caravans of merchants and nobles who could afford costly armed guards, and Tonokist patrols. Which meant traveling alone, was dangerous and foolish beyond belief for the average person. 

However, Sauro wasn’t worried. Counted among the ranks of promising mage talents from the Tonokoist army, he was a lethal force to be reckoned with in swordplay and very capable of protecting himself outside of the city walls. He was confident that Arsenio would be safe, even on the little forest path they travelled now.

The trees were rich with green and blue leaves, those that bore fruit heavy with their ripening load. Off in the distance, a river chattered and giggled, whilst birds soared high overhead, singing loud and clear. It was a gift that Sauro was sure Arsenio could appreciate, though he really hoped Arsenio would truly love it as much as he did himself. Sauro could sense that Arsenio, as tethered as he was to his family smithy, was curious about the world outside. And he hoped that with this gift, he could help stoke that curiosity, and maybe, just maybe, entice him to join the Tonokoist knights with him. Arsenio was gallant, chivalrous, honorable, kind, gentle- he embodied the very spirit of a knight. He had no lust for power, or fame, or money. He only strived to perfect his skills.

Arsenio would make an amazing knight. He might not have the skills right now, but Sauro knew that he would become the best of them in no time. Even if he clung to Moonblossom like a dying man as she plodded onward at a slow walk.

“Could you come closer?” Arsenio eventually asked, having been unsuccessful in his attempts to get the juicy peace offering.

Sauro complied, edging Soothsayer closer until their knees barely touched. “You still don’t know how to sit a saddle, huh?”

“You said you would teach me how to ride a horse if I came with you”, Arsenio reminded him as he crammed the entire orange in his mouth.

“I am”, Sauro grimaced as orange juice sprayed into Moonblossom’s mane. “Don’t you know how to eat an orange?”

Arsenio turned to him, noisily chomping on the orange in the loudest, most obnoxious manner he could, as he carefully dabbed at the errant droplets in her mane with his sleeve. Laughing, Sauro leaned over to ruffle his hair, as with a near inaudible thwang, a projectile sped by. With a thud, the arrow sank into the tree behind them, bright orange fletching quivering.

“Wh-AHH!?”, Arsenio cried as Moonblossom danced away with a disgruntled huff, head arched from how tightly Arsenio clung to her reins, “What was that?!”

“Bandits.”

Sauro’s thoughts raced as he whipped out his sword, Soothsayer tense beneath him. The horses ears swivelled at attention and old they as they were, Sauro drew confidence from their steady presences. As Academy horses they had done their share of patrols, and had met their fair share of bandits- rare as they were. Moonblossom could carry Arsenio back to the walls with little trouble, while he held off the bandits on the main road. 

The only problem was getting back to the main road. 

“Go back to the city”, Sauro said, whirling Soothsayer back the way they came.

“Wh-!”

_ Thawp _ . An arrow thudded where Soothsayer had been just moments before.

“Hurry!” he slapped Moonblossom’s hindquarters, sending her charging forward as Arsenio clung to his saddle.

He glanced back as sure footed Soothsayer galloped forward. Behind them, bird calls echoed out- 4, 5 bandits breaking out of the foliage. Arrows rained down around him, heralding their pursuers with blood curdling whistles. Sauro leaned down over Soothsayer’s mane, the strands whipping his face as they gradually drew even with Moonblossom’s rump, Arsenio doing a swell imitation of a leaky bag of potatoes.

They rode hard and fast, the horses legs ripping up the undergrowth as they raced forward. They were nimble and strong, and Sauro was doubly thankful as the Academy horses lengthened the distance between them and the bandits, and their arrows. They were a few yards from the main road, and with an extra burst of speed, they were racing down the large paved expanse of road that lead straight to the city walls. 

Moonblossom raced ahead with her hapless passenger, as Sauro and Soothsayer held back. Moments stretched to minutes, as they slowed to a trot, then a walk, Sauro watching for the bandits. A flicker of unease raced up his spine. 

They should have caught up by now, so  _ where were they _ ? 

A flicker of light, and Soothsayer leapt forward.The arrow whizzed by, nicking instead of giving him the quick end the archer surely desired. He dropped back further, finding two archers perched up in the trees. A flurry of hooves, instinct bringing Sauro’s sword up into a block. His arm went numb from the impact, briefly staggering back from the other’s larger, heavier form. The man chuckled, harsh planes of his face smug as Sauro pushed back against his axe, confident in his victory- and it would have been his victory, had Sauro not been with a seasoned fighter. 

Soothsayer slid past his horse, allowing Sauro to slide the blow off of his sword. As arrows shot by, Soothsayer danced around the bandit, getting in close enough that his swings were useless. Sauro slit his throat with a dagger, the blood spray coating bandit’s horse in red just as the other two bandits rushed in. Not waiting to give him a break, they rained blows down on Sauro and Soothsayer, pushing them to their very limits. His arm was quickly tiring from the abuse, and Sauro could tell that all the enthusiasm in the world wouldn't allow Soothsayer to keep up with these young horses for long.

“I’m sorry mate”, the oldest man said, slitted pupils regretful behind his blows even as his partner attempted to skewer him on his sword. “I really don’t like killing kids.”

“Me too”, Sauro said, swinging his sword a wide arc, flames racing to life upon it’s length.

Their mounts reared, alarmed and frightened, throwing the bandits to the floor as they raced back into the woods. It was frighteningly easy to deal with them after that. When he was done, the forest was silent aside from the cheerful crackling of the burning trees where the archers once perched. He glanced back at the cooling patch of melted metal- the remains of his sword, frowning as his vision dimmed. Sauro turned Soothsayer towards home. ‘ _Arsenio was going to kill him for ruining another sword’_ , he sighed, clinging to Soothsayer as a wave of exhaustion washed over him. 

Sauro drifted back to consciousness to the cheerful chirping of birds. Careful hands cradled him close in a strange and nostalgically warm embrace.  _ He felt so stiff _ . He flexed his fingers, scraping against the rough paving of the main road.  _ Was he outside the wall? _ Hairy lips kissed his forehead.

Sauro opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light that filtered through the tree branches. The pair of large hairy lips lipping at his forehead was pushed out of the way by a shadowy hand, indistinct but familiar voices speaking. The horse snorted as the shadowy figure leaned in closer, finally coming into focus.

Under the light of the trees, Arsenio’s eyes were a deep dark green, as rich as oak leaves after a rainshower. They dripped, an ocean of leaves spilling off his lashes and onto Sauro’s face. Startled, Sauro watched him carefully in the odd light.

_ Why was he crying? The bandits are gone. Maybe he got hurt. _

“Are you ok? Did you get hurt?”, he gently cradled Arsenio’s cheek, looking for blood.

Arsenio burst into fresh tears. “That’s what I should be asking  _ you! You idiot! _ What made you think you could take on bandits??  _ Alone?!? _ ”

Sauro grinned, his vision blurring and dimming. “I got rid of them, didn’t I?”

“Yea-but, you nearly  _ died _ !”

“Ah”, Sauro sighed sadly, “that must be why I’m not in the embrace of some busty babes.”

“Don’t look so disappointed, you incorrigible womanizer”, Arsenio said, a rhythmic thump underlying his words, “You’re still bleeding.”

“Well that explains the gut pain.”

Arsenio shrieked. Looking a peculiar shade of horrified, he pulled back to look at Sauro’s blood splattered abdomen. With shaking hands, he gently pulled the cloth free, revealing Sauro’s unblemished abs. 

“There... there’s nothing here”, Arsenio said, warm hands gentle as they pressed on the muscles. Through the dimming light, Sauro could see him frowning as if his torso could reveal the untold mysteries contained within. Sauro shuddered, vehemently trying not to laugh. 

Arsenio’s head whipped towards him, eyes incredibly earnest. “Did that hurt?”

His laugh trailed off into a groan as his shoulder twinged like a tremolo before fading back into nothing, the drumming louder and deeper. “Nope, that’d be my shoulder.”

Arsenio growled faintly. “See? This is what I’m talking about! You do stupid sh- Sauro?  _ Sauro!?! _ ”

Sauro could faintly feel warm hands shaking him as he floated off into the quiet dark, a the slow drum and his parched throat his only company. 

_ Damn, was he thirsty _ ….

He awoke to an open window and warm, soft sheets. Rather, he was dragged into wakefulness by fingers of sunlight slipping under his lids and  _ yanking _ them open, leaving him,  _ uncomfortably _ awake and irritable, in a purgatory of pain as his body tried cataloguing all injuries at once. He felt like he had been the finish line for a stampede of wild unicorns. And not the lanky, fragile-looking adolescents either. Sauro meant the big, eight feet tall ones, mature unicorns with hooves the size of dinner plates and a kick so strong they could launch a fully kit knight five hundred yards without harming a hair on their steed.

Everything hurt. 

_ Everything _ .

Well, the hand on his uninjured side didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt nothing at all. He flexed his hand, and promptly winced as pins and needles danced to wakefulness with a vengeance. Exasperated, Sauro inched upright, stilling as he saw his hand. 

Pillowed atop his forearm, his hand tightly interwoven with his own, slept Arsenio. His hair was extra floofy, like a disgruntled bird’s plumage, in no way helped by the awkward angle that his spectacles were compressed into, pressed up against his arm as they were. Purple shadows clung beneath his eyes, and a wet patch of drool pooled beneath his arm. Sauro was unsure if he should be concerned, disgusted, or flattered that his forearm was so comfortable a pillow. 

His lips lifting suspiciously, Sauro sank back against his pillows. There was no helping his hand- Arsenio was as good as a shackle, and as secure as a trap- so he might as well get another few hours of sleep. He shut his eyes, the warmth within his chest soothing the pain away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeap, Sauro’s that kinda idiot. Tho in his defence, he was capable enough to deal with them. I hope the action reads smoother then it was to write.


	4. Incendiary Philanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arsenio's headaches tend to come upon him suddenly and with one hell of a bang.

Arsenio looked up from where he was securing crates as Sauro dashed into the yard. “Hide me” he frantically whispered. Arsenio stared at him, a blank look in his green eyes, the same look on he got when he was asked to replace Sauro’s sword. The look that said ‘ _ not again _ ’ even as he girded himself up to divert another father or brother of one of Sauro’s  _ many friends _ . Even now, the angry bellowing of his pursuer could be heard above the market place chatter.

With a put upon sigh, Arsenio gestured to the cart neatly stacked with the latest purchases of one Lord Knight Reyes. “If you hunker down, no one should be able to see you behind the crate”, he said, shaking out a tarp.

“Arsenio, you beautiful man, what would I do without you?”, Sauro grinned, hopping into the space between the crates. Arsenio’s mouth twitched as he fought to keep a steady face.

“Die, apparently”, Arsenio dryly remarked, tossing the tarp over the items, and knocking Sauro into a hard corner. 

“Ouch!”, Sauro yelped, rubbing his head, just to hit it in the exact same spot when Arsenio kicked the cart wheel as for the second time that day, the door slammed open. Heavily panting, his pursuer staggered into the yard.

“Boy, -huff- wh-where is, -whoo- your Master?” 

Sauro winced as he  _ felt _ Arsenio settle into his customer persona. Arsenio may be short and look young, but he was literally only a year away from being legally an adult. And though he would not say it, it was a bit of a sore point with him- though Sauro really couldn’t understand how it was a bad thing. Arsenio was cheerful and charming, and had boyish good looks that made many of Sauro’s ladies coo and fawn if they met him. If he put his mind to it (and his very talented hands), Sauro was sure he could charm them out of their clothes even faster then he did. But Arsenio, delicate little lamb that he was, was so new to many of the worldly  _ delights _ Sauro enjoyed. It sometimes made him wonder if he had any interest at all in women. But the delightful way he blushed the last time he had caught Sauro and his current lady in  _ a state of disarray…. _

“He’s not here at the moment, but I can help you if you wish to place an order.”

Sauro heard the man begin to pace, rustling silk growing closer and louder, and tensed. 

“From this dump? Unlikely.”

_ Dump? _ Sauro repressed his growl. What kind of bullshit-? That man would not know taste if it _ bit him on the ass _ . But sweet, kind, saintly Arsenio wouldn’t tell him that, no, he’d say-

“Is there something else?”

Yup, Sauro nodded, that’s what he’d do, the polite fool. 

A dull thud came from too close to the cart as the man poked at a barrel with his walking stick. 

“Have you seen a fiend come this way? He di-”, the man swallowed, his face twisted as if he had just swallowed a disgustingly bitter plum pit, “d-dishonored my sweet, pure fiancée, Jezebel.”

_ Dishonored?  _ **_Dishonored??_ ** She was feeling very honored if the way she had been moaning was any indicator. Hell, she had been the one to go down on  _ him! _

_ Dishonored my very fine ass _ .

“A fiend? I’m afraid not-”, Arsenio replied.

Sauro felt the chill emanating off of Arsenio. He was  _ pissed off _ . 

“-you’re the first visitor we’ve had today.” 

There was a pause and the rustle of silk. “Adultery is a sin, boy, and hiding adulterers makes you complicit in their sin.”

“Then it’s a good thing that there are no adulterers here”, Arsenio promised, irritation coming off of him in waves. 

Sauro nearly choked trying not to laugh. 

“Say boy, what do you have under that tarp there.” 

He tensed as he heard the smack of wood against flesh.

“Let go! Don’t you know to respect your betters, boy?”

“When I see them, I’ll be sure to do so.” 

The man gasped loud enough that Sauro’s snort went unnoticed. 

Or so he thought.

“There’s someone under that tarp, and I demand you show me!” The tarp rustled as they struggled over it, blocking out most of what they said no matter how Sauro strained to hear.

“Well then. I’ll be back later”, Sauro could hear the strain in the man’s voice, “With the guards. Don’t think I won’t find him!”

“Good luck!” Arsenio called as the man strode away. The door slammed shut in response.

A few moments passed before Sauro heard the door lock. He or Jezebel should’ve locked the damn door. Maybe then he wouldn’t have had to escape out the window with his shirt still untucked because of that gaudily clothed silk fop.

He groaned. “That man is such a pain in the arse.”

“Really?”, Arsenio’s frown was clear as he unfastened the tarp. “That man’s fiancee?”

“Did you have to wish him good luck?”, he said in turn.

Arsenio sighed as he pulled back the tarp, illuminating Sauro in his bedraggled state.

“Yes. I did.” 

Sauro jumped out of the cart, stretching the stiffness from his long limbs. 

“She was his fiancee!”

_ Ah. So Arsenio was mad with him. _

“Well how was I to know she was engaged?” Sauro griped, tucking his shirt properly into his breeches.

“Ask??” Arsenio rubbed his face before replacing the tarp. “I swear, you’ll be killed because of your pretty boy womanizing ways before you have the chance to see a battlefield.”

Sauro batted his eyes at Arsenio. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Like moldy cheese. And you smell as delightful”, Arsenio deadpanned.

“Oh Arsenio! I never knew you cared so much- how could I die when that would mean you’d miss me oh so terribly?”, he laughed. 

With a fond sigh, Arsenio shoved Sauro onto a stool. With deft fingers, he pulled the hair tie loose, gently carding through the strands.

Sauro hummed, as Arsenio’s long fingers lightly tugged through his hair, “But what a way to go- dying for love!”

Arsenio laughed wryly, his hands moving calm and steady, gentle yet firm. They slid through the strands, collecting his hair at the base of his neck in the way that he liked that only Arsenio could do. 

”Just get out of here before the fiancee really comes back with the guards”, he said, securing Sauro’s hairtie, “or you’ll be  _ dying for love _ a lot sooner than you’d think.”

Sauro chuckled. Pulling Arsenio into a quick hug, he enveloped himself in Arsenio’s soothing scent of sweet beeswax and the complex spice of fire. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than just one, Sauro”, Arsenio smiled, eyes glowing behind his spectacles. “Just make sure you keep it in your pants- I’m running out of hiding places.”

Sauro laughed as he climbed the yard wall, perched between the safety he had come to accept as constant and the unknown. “I give no promises.”

With a cheeky wink, he jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, the first one I wrote. I’m gonna agree with Arsenio’s view that Sauro was a total player, bc like, despite his faux-hawk that veres far too close to a rattail for comfort, the man is attractive and smooth like a nice bourbon (i assume, i personally havent had bourbon, but like, i hear it’s nice as alcohol goes.) ((i also heard it burns nicely as it goes down too *wink wonk*))


	5. Scorched Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fire demon was found to be possessing Arsenio. After a weeklong investigation, the demon was burned at the stake by the Tonokoist’s Inquisition.

_ He will be missed. _

It was whispered into his shoulder, against his ear, patted onto his back, pressed into his hand. Words full of pity and dripping with a nameless emotion that Sauro could not bear to name- it would have made his skin crawl if he wasn’t already so cold.

The chill was strongest on his side, where Arsenio used to be. An unfeeling cold, everything seemed distant and unimportant as if viewed from behind a very thick wall. As if his body knew something essential, someone important was gone- and was at a loss for how to correct it. Warmth fled from him as the days passed by, the chill spreading further, sinking deeper as one single,  _ impossible _ fact was realized.

_ Arsenio was gone. _

Sauro stood in the crowd, the blistering heat of the pyre tangible with the suffocating scent of roasted meat and burning hair. Screams rend the air, high pitched and desperate pleas, but Sauro couldn’t hear them. Couldn’t feel the eager press of the bodies surrounding him, chanting.

It was quiet and cold where he was apathetically watching the fire demon being purified in vibrant light of red, orange, and pale gold. The flames were strong, painting avid spectators red even as they leached colour from everything else. Cool sea green filled his vision as the fire demon locked eyes with him. It thrashed against it’s bonds, eyes frantic, a wordless plea forming on blistering lips.  _ Help me _ . Sauro flinched, the world being thrown back into sharp focus, the chanting crowd pressing in too tight, the heat  _ overwhelming and suffocating, and oh Lord, he had to get out, away from the eyes,  _ _ Arsenio’s eyes _ _ - _ Sauro fled from the crowd, pushing, running away from the light and into the dark. Yet, the sea green eyes, steaming in their sockets did not leave him. 

They stayed, even as the red glow faded, as the monochromatic greys bleeding into a darker swathe. 

They awoke him, cool tumultuous pools staring at him from within the center of the raging inferno that slowly burnt it’s way towards him. 

Arsenio’s body- marred and defiled with the scales of the demon, reached for him, startling sea green eyes mocking. 

Sauro _ saw red _ and the world was consumed in shadow and flame _.  _

When he came to, he was on his back amidst the rubble of the Academy’s dorm, blanketed in a thick layer of grey ash. His neck and face throbbed angrily beneath the cold detachment, pinpricks of pain and awareness shooting across his body as he looked to the grey sky. The demon was gone. 

Sauro felt the prickling build up behind his eyes, as a breath quietly shuddered out from his dry lips. In that moment, Sauro made a promise, a vow, to himself- he would fulfill the Lord’s mission. He would make sure no one suffered like he and Arsenio did. Sauro gazed up at the monochromatic sky, blood red flames sputtering at his fingertips.

He would find and destroy _purify_ all monsterkind.

Years passed, grey and bleak storm clouds threatening to break with ominous rumbles upon Sauro’s horizon. They followed him as he quickly rose through the ranks, hushed and dark, a cloak of some vengeful specter hellbound on retribution. Sauro didn’t care what his peers thought as they scurried out of his path- he didn’t have the time or energy to devote to the inconsequential when he could be preventing tragedies. It was that which motivated him, when he learned of the Demon King and the seaside castle he inhabited, to seek out a position with the subjugating force. Maybe in purifying the Demon King, a beacon of sacrilegious hubris against the Lord’s Good Word, his mission would be fulfilled. He hoped  Arsenio’s memory would be appeased and  would allow him to atone for his greatest mistake.

Under the cover of darkness, Sauro strode into the seaside palace to face the evil. He hadn’t expected to find the noon time sea reflected in luminous eyes that haunted his dreams, vibrant and cool within waves of burning memories. How could he forget the way those eyes would crinkle when he laughed, the faint scar under his jaw from when he rescued young Félix from the neighbour’s dog, the wry twisting of lips when exasperated? Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to forget the way his hair felt- fluffy and soft like his cat’s, the way his voice- it had a higher pitch then- could soothe and relax him like no one else could, or even the way he smelt- like beeswax and fire. Even with the longer hair, the greater stature, the wear of the years- Sauro would  _ never _ be able to forget Arsenio. Yet there  he stood, a dead man walking.

Sauro hadn’t expected the demon brazenly wearing his best friend’s face to have  _ survived. _ He should have known better- it was a fire demon- some paltry, immature flames wouldn’t be enough. The flames would have to be hotter, more  _ holy, more purifying. _ And though all he had left was the vengeance of a broken heart, it wouldn’t survive this time. Sauro would make sure of that, or die trying. 

It didn’t seem like Sauro would have to die to kill the demon with how it scrambled to avoid him, hiding behind what he called the actual Demon Lord- as if the round egg thing could be the lightning wielding affront to God. Even so, Sauro chanted his aria, watching as his troops scrambled for cover. He had the demon cornered, cowering behind the egg in a strong embrace. But even as the aria’s blast of stone-melting flames died down, the demon, nor the egg thing died. They looked terrible- the egg a melting pool of some mysterious substance, but the demon. The demon lay against the rubble, sea green eyes lifeless- only the faintest rise of their burnt scaled chest proof it was alive- but that was something Sauro could easily fix. Grim satisfaction arose within him, his bare sword glowing red with a holy light.  _ One cut, one stab, and it would all be over. _

He hadn’t expected it to have  _ friends _ .

Somewhere a glacier cracked, and ice sprung up around him, blocking him and the killing blow. Sauro laid there breathless and numb like so many years ago, watching as the fire demon was flown away. The girl who had saved the demon, she had _wanted_ to kill him. But she hadn’t. Because _Arsenio_ _would be sad_. He couldn’t find the breath to speak, to tell her that the thing she protected- that defiled the memory of his friend with every breath it drew, was not Arsenio. That his friend, the embodiment of everything Sauro strove to be, had died five years ago. And in doing so, had taken every joy Sauro knew with him. 

At first, the muted tones had been attributed to the layer of ash coating everything. The discordant tones- a simple concussion, the lack of flavour- yet more ash. But the days passed, and though the ringing stopped, his altered vision did not. He didn’t desire the things he used to- pleasurable company held no appeal, delectable foods were bland and unappealing. Nothing could bring him joy, and being around others just threw into sharp relief all that he had lost. Each day passed much like the one before, grey and meaningless, the only true colour the light of his flames. 

Until he saw those sea green eyes. 

They glittered in the dark, glowed in the firelight, simultaneously lit up and sobered at the sight of him. They were a shock of cool colour to his bleak monotony of grey and red, and he couldn’t stop the part of him that cried at the sight. As Sauro succumbed to his injuries, sea green eyes consumed his thoughts- more vibrant and full of life than the sea he had crossed to be here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... let me know what you think....


	6. Petrichor of April Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April showers bring May flowers.

Memories raced through his mind, moments of a missed past concluding with an incredulous smile. It trembled upon a familiar face, _older and leaner_ \- and Sauro felt something stir beneath the grief. The expression was too _foreign_ , _too welcoming,_ to be on someone intent on his destruction. Maybe the ice girl was ri- Sauro recoiled from the thought. No matter how he hid it always found him, tormenting him with the possibilities, _the consequences_. It was a ride from which he could not leave- the only relief from this hell of his own making the forgiveness of a dead friend. 

It no longer mattered though _._ He would be seeing Arsenio sooner than he had thought- for better or for worse _._

“Pathetic. You’re not gonna die over something like this, are you?”

Sauro’s eyes flew open. 

‘ _Oh great, he was having hallucinations’_ , the logical part of him distantly noted, even as the rest of him was rendered speechless at the specter sitting beside him. 

Sea green eyes, vibrant and full of life glittered and glowed, simultaneously lit up and sobered at the sight of him. They were a shock of cool colour in his bleak monotony, and a part of him cried, _sobbed_ , at the sight. He was helpless in their soothing gaze, a siren song of better, happier, times no matter how hard he fought. Yet even as he drowned in sea green memories, he couldn’t have been happier. Painful as it was, though Sauro _burned_ from the strength of his emotions, it was the only way he could see that well loved face smile once again. The one he never got to grow old with like he thought he would, smiling at him with an exasperated huff, with a joyful grin. It was almost too cruel. 

However, Sauro felt he deserved it for what he had done and failed to accomplish. He was content to grab this last fleeting glimpse of peace before he faced the fiery wrath for the crimes he commited. Then a drop of cold water landed on his chest, the chill rippling through him with a thrill of awareness, and Sauro had to reconsider. 

‘ _Was this truly a hallucination?_ ’, he stared at the wavering figure in front of him, ‘ _Could Arsenio really be alive?_ ’

The cold cloth they held to his burning wound, pressed a little harder, became a little more real. _Ah._ Sauro blinked, lips fruitlessly rubbing together like kindling, as he struggled to speak. For there at his bedside, like countless times before, sat Arsenio, happy and alive.

Everything had been monotonous and bleak. Yet with just a glance of sea green eyes under long dark lashes, their lips curled in a soft smile- Sauro was buoyed on a wave of emotion _._ _Arsenio_. Something flinched, something hurt at his name, but Sauro paid no heed. His friend was here, safe and alive. _He was home_. Not like in that nightmare, where everything was terrible, and _lonely_ , and- Sauro reached out, fingers tangling with cool slender fingers. _He was here, that was all that mattered._ He nuzzled into them, the cool touch blissful against his heated skin. 

Lulled deeper into a hazy half-sleep, Sauro jerked into awareness when his subordinates entered the room offering their help to _her_ ? Sauro blinked, taking in the pale shirt tucked into a dull skirt. _Oh._

_They weren’t Arsenio?_ Sauro frowned. _But that couldn’t be, surely this was Arsenio._

As she got up, he caught the hem of her faded red skirt before he could stop himself.

“Yes?”, she asked, looking at him curiously, not unlike how Arsenio used to.

“Your name?”

She looked startled as if she hadn’t expected to be asked. 

“I’m Ar-”, they paled.

Sauro held his breath.

“-Ah! Al! Al?”

 _Al?_ Sauro had to stifle the urge to chuckle at how flustered they got, their face rapidly changing colours.

“A-alma.” They smiled shyly, wildly blushing, “My name is Alma.”

_Soul._

Sauro smiled, overflowing with joy and relief. Indeed, that would be the name they chose. For no matter where they went, _no matter how they looked,_ Arsenio would always stay the same, wonderful person.

“When can I see you again?” 

_Please. Don’t leave._

Alma turned back with a soft smile. “Tomorrow.” 

_I won’t._

Sauro smiled, releasing the soft hem of their rich burgundy skirt. _Good._

With one sentence, Alma had done what hours upon hours of devotion to the Lord had failed to achieve- his salvation. Sauro’s fingers flexed against the soft blankets he lay between, relishing in the sweet and flowery from the laundry. He could see the rich burgundy of their skirt, the kind you’d taste from an expensive wine, their lips the pink of the juiciest peach, their face, _their eyes_ the only sea he would ever gladly drown in _._

Cradling their promise close to his heart, Sauro and the angry, wounded beast within him drifted off into a sweet, peaceful sleep. He was no longer haunted by specters of the past- he had found what he had been searching for in Arsenio’s eyes: _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arsenio’s eyes were the only sea he would ever gladly drown in. They weren’t something he would need a map or a compass to navigate because the stars reflected within their depths would always lead him _home_.


End file.
